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realization
genkaku
Northampton, Mass. U.S.A. Veteran
Received today in email this picture and commentary:
This photo shows the collapse of Torrero Alvaro Munera, as he realized in the middle of the his last fight... the injustice to the animal. From that day forward he became an opponent of bullfights.
"And suddenly, I looked at the bull. He had this innocence that all animals have in their eyes, and he looked at me with this pleading. It was like a cry for justice, deep down inside of me. I describe it as being like a prayer - because if one confesses, it is hoped, that one is forgiven. I felt like the worst shit on earth."
*************************************************
This email made me think that although animal-rights activists may be dancing in the streets, still, however good the cause, it is not good causes that count so much. What counts is what dances in your heart.
This photo shows the collapse of Torrero Alvaro Munera, as he realized in the middle of the his last fight... the injustice to the animal. From that day forward he became an opponent of bullfights.
"And suddenly, I looked at the bull. He had this innocence that all animals have in their eyes, and he looked at me with this pleading. It was like a cry for justice, deep down inside of me. I describe it as being like a prayer - because if one confesses, it is hoped, that one is forgiven. I felt like the worst shit on earth."
*************************************************
This email made me think that although animal-rights activists may be dancing in the streets, still, however good the cause, it is not good causes that count so much. What counts is what dances in your heart.
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Comments
how many of us get a chance like that to suddenly 'get it'....?
Anyone who would hurt an animal or even be indifferent to them, I would suggest look them in the eye. They can't speak, but they understand more than most humans give them credit for.
Years later, having read Ernest Hemingway's praise for the valor and courage of the bull ring, I went to a bullfight in Tiajuana, Mexico. I managed to stay through a single confrontation. It was, in my mind, beyond inhumane. It was purely the stupidest, most infuriatingly self-centered activity I had ever witnessed.
But in the same way that the matador was forced to pay attention-attention-attention (or risk getting gored, perhaps fatally), so I in the stands was forced to pay attention-attention-attention. The stupidity that knew no bounds was not just out there on the bloody sands. It reached clearly and precisely into my own guts. It wasn't enough to stand back and speak virtuously about not killing. It was only enough to know without doubt that I was a killer. No magical-mystery-tour, philosophical or religious or virtue-laden cant: I ... was... a... killer.
Attention is something we all can bring to bear in Buddhism. It is not necessary to put ourselves in extreme circumstances, though those circumstances can sometimes be useful. Attention is always available... and it's a useful tool to employ under whatever the circumstances may be.
Just my take.
I'm...still pulling the wings off flies sometimes.. in a way. To be brutally honest.
Or is this a different person?
i didn't want to rain on his parade....
it's a good story, with a salient point, whatever the facts may be....
You're right according to the link you PM'ed: A distaste for bullfighting did not occur in some eureka moment in the ring, but rather after the toreador was injured and then thinking about things for quite a while as he recuperated.
I suppose I might have been more cautious with the email I received, but the quote hit the spot ... and, whenever the toreador went through his conversion, I still think bullfighting is a truly idiotic pursuit... one that, like other idiocies, helps me to address my own olé idiocies.